Exerpt

"Bicycle past police lights twisting the blue from the night. past a man setting a box on fire to make a pot of tea. Lean forward enough and it's as if you're floating, as if there's no machine supporting you, the earth spinning an inch below your feet. Blur your eyes and sing a little song to yourself to keep upright -- the song keyed to the rhythm of pedaling. Skim over the dark earth, arms spread, the sign of the cross, Look, Ma, no hands, crucified by the air, crucified by the night. Who doesn't want to just disappear, at some point in the day, in a year, to just step off the map and float?"